


After the Funeral

by thechestofsilver



Series: Raffles Week 2019 [3]
Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: An Old Flame (E. W. Hornung), Emotional, Ham Common, M/M, rafflesweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 05:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18114332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechestofsilver/pseuds/thechestofsilver
Summary: A small addition to -- and directly following -- "An Old Flame".





	After the Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> For Raffles week day 4: "I couldn't talk to a soul for thinking of you" and day 6: "A new burrow for us both".

It seemed a different country from that same morning, and it was hard to believe it was mere hours since I had boarded the train in such an anxious state. With Raffles by my side, and with all our recent troubles behind us, I felt it as if all of Richmond was smiling for us; and when the sight of our new home caused Raffles’s face to light up with a joy I had not seen for years, it was as if something settled at last. The landlady met us in the door, and a cheerful wave of introductions and small talk followed, before I could finally bring Raffles up to the room I had deliberately saved for him. It was the airier room, on the south side, with the generous amount of sunshine during the day which I knew he would appreciate. The furniture was all to his liking, too; a small iron fireplace decorated the west wall; there even was a robust book-case not unlike the ones he had had at the Albany in the old days. Raffles took it all in with a smile.

“What more can one ask for!” said he jovially, but I barely heard him.

In three strides I was across the room, and fell upon his neck. The dam had broken at last: every anxiety, every horrible sensation of grief and loss and despair seemed to be pouring out of me at once; and it was with tears streaming down my face that I grasped at his shirt, and kissed him with a fervour extravagant even to me. If he was surprised, he did not show it; and when we broke apart, he held me close still, calming me with the gentle caress of his hands.

“Bunny,” he only said. “Bunny, my Bunny.”

Still shaken, I placed a hand on his beating heart.

“You are alright, are you not?” said I hoarsely. “Those drugs did not have a lasting effect?”

He shook his head, placing his hand on mine.

“No, Bunny—a bit of rest, and I shall be as good as new in no time.”

His eyes looked into mine, and a shimmer came over them.

“Will you stay here tonight?” said he then, in a voice which had lost its characteristic steadiness. “Bunny, will you stay in here with me tonight?”

He need not have asked.


End file.
